


In the Garage

by Luddite_heart



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: A bored Murdock is a dangerous thing, B.A. uses his powers for Good, Fluff, M/M, Rangers at Play, SEX!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:31:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luddite_heart/pseuds/Luddite_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is B.A. doing in there?!?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Garage

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the kink-meme, this was inspired by a prompt from the lovely Sonora.

B.A. was busy. 

Murdock knew this because the big guy made the announcement himself after breakfast that morning, standing tall and giving them his grim face. 

"Gonna be out in the garage today. Got somethin' I'm workin' on and I don't want no interruptions." 

He crossed big arms over a bigger chest, glaring at each of them in turn, and didn't he know he looked absolutely lickable like that? All manly and gruff. Murdock tongued the syrup from the corner of his mouth and wondered what it would take to get Bosco on his plate. Hot and sweet….

"No problem, B.A.," Hannibal smiled. The colonel would be happy to leave all his boys to their own plans today. He had embraced the idea of 'vacation' with surprising enthusiasm, Murdock was pleased to see. They were all overjoyed to get some time off; some time away from the sound and fury of this new life of theirs. But, of them all, Hannibal needed the quiet most; to center himself, so he could be their anchor. Calm and sure. He ruffled the pages of his current book, eager to start another hard day of doing nothing much. The morning sun was sliding, butter-warm, through the kitchen window, gilding his eyes to silver, like mist on the lake. Beautiful. And, speaking of which….

"Sure thing, big guy." Face stretched luxuriously just for their admiration. The sun decided to make love to him as well, glittering in his hair and caressing his skin, but Murdock wasn't jealous. He was a big enough person to share. And, Face craved that heat; he spent hours of everyday laying out, naked, by the covered pool, recharging his personal solar panels. Face had gone Green long before it was considered fashionable. 

B.A. nodded briskly and turned his stare onto Murdock. Was the big guy waiting for his consent? Or, his meek acquiescence? Hmpf. Well, really, his teammates were showing a complete lack of natural human curiosity this morning. No, worries, mates! Murdock would gather the intel. 

"Whatcha doooin'?" he cooed, in his best Isabella. Face snickered appreciatively, but B.A. turned the glare up to nine. 

"Never you mind. You find out later." And, to Murdock's utter delight, a dark, knowing smile spread across his dark, handsome face. "This afternoon, maybe."

Oh, that was too much. Too much, and not nearly enough. Murdock bounced to his feet, kitchen chair crashing behind him, pancakes forgotten. 

"Whatisitwhatisitwhatisit?!?" he chanted, dodging around the table. But, Bosco held up one hand, up and out like traffic cop. Stopping the insanity. 

"it's a surprise," he growled threateningly. And, could a fun surprise also be a threat? Apparently, it could. "No interruptions. You hear me, Fool?" 

"I hear lots of things," he answered pertly. He was prepared to list all the things he could currently hear (all part of the service, chaps!) but B.A. stomped away, muttering. Face and Hannibal took their cue and exited, stage left.

 

The after-breakfast clean up was too quick and easy, leaving Murdock plenty of time to wander and wonder. What was Bosco up to? Usually, B.A. sequestered in the garage meant Baby was getting some attention from her man. Murdock didn't begrudge them their 'special time'. After all, if he could share Face with the sun, he could certainly share B.A. with the Van. She got them from point A to point B, quickly and safely and almost never complained about the bullet holes. It wasn't her fault she couldn't fly… Oh! Maybe that was it! A rotary attachment for Baby! Something to confuse and confound the enemy. Murdock indulged himself for a moment in that delicious fantasy (B.A. handing him the keys to his Girl; 'only you can save us now, handsome!' he would whisper seductively; the familiar roar of van morphing to the even more familiar thrum of chopper, launching them into the endless sky, free…). He shook his head regretfully, coming back to ground with a dreary thump. There were some things too far fetched for even him to believe. 

Well, the garage might still mean van enhancement, but that wouldn't put a naughty smile on the Big Guy's face. What about the garage itself? This garage in this borrowed house was veritable Cave of Wonders. Someone who normally lived here love to build and create (maybe even as much as The A-Team!) The space was massive, gleaming and well appointed. Professional quality tools, mysterious bits and bobs, and sexy lighting decorated the place. B.A. had taken one look, during their initial recon of the house, and immediately claimed the area as his own. Murdock didn't think he had pissed on it, but…

So, was Baby being bathed by big, beautiful Bosco? (Fun with alliteration! ) No, apparently not. Murdock pressed his nose against the living room window to better see the van, sitting forlorn and abandoned in the driveway. Oh, dear. Was she running away from home? Or, did B.A. and Baby have a lover's quarrel? Maybe Murdock should mediate a reconciliation... 

But, B.A. was busy.

Face said so. "I wouldn't bother him right now, buddy," the lieutenant murmured absently. He wasn't really listening, Murdock could see, all hunched over his lap-top and barely looking up when Murdock barreled into the den. What was he doing so industriously, typing and clicking and staring intently? Monitoring the global financial market? Perusing E-Bay? Simply surfing the web? (Fugitivefantasies.com!?!) What could be more important than ensuring harmony among all the members of their odd little family? 

"But, what if she finally put her smelly, rubber foot down and demanded all of his attention?!? D'you think he'd throw us all over for her?" Oh, that was a terrible thought. He sucked in a breath, almost devastated at a loss that hadn't occurred, when Face finally looked at him, softening into a charming smile. 

"I'm sure it's just a temporary separation between them. B.A. probably just need the extra space in the garage." 

Needed the space? In a four car garage? For why?!? Murdock's imagination fired the afterburners, dazzling him with the possibilities. But, Face had already been called back to his computer by an imperious 'ping'. Maybe he was over-throwing a small dictatorship. Could you take over a country by lap-top? Well, if anyone could do it, Face could. And, he would make an excellent Emperor. Brave and clever and beautiful. Lusty. He would need plenty of concubines to keep him happy… Murdock wandered away, distracted by the image of Face in a short toga and himself in a leather collar. Hmmm…. well, Halloween was coming up soon.

Oh, he was back in the kitchen now! Standing near the door that led to the mud room. The mud room that led to the garage. That tantalizing space that could host a small circus or a large orgy. Maybe one little peek… No! Turn away, manfully, to the refrigerator. Think about lunch. Yes, we just had breakfast, but it never hurts to Plan ahead. 

Not much in the 'fridge. Maybe he should make a run to the grocery store. In the van. B.A. had the keys to the van. Maybe he could just peek in the garage to inquire about a ride…

But, B.A. was busy. 

Hannibal said so. "Best to leave him alone right now, captain." Murdock had wandered out to the back porch to consult with the colonel re: lunch options. Hannibal was lounging peacefully with a cigar and his book, the very image of relaxation. Murdock hated to bother him; these quiet moments were few and far between. Which was why they were taking two weeks off. Face had secured (through delightful, nefarious means, no doubt) this obscenely large, fully furnished house, and Hannibal had ensured two solid weeks of freedom. No clients to placate, no bad guys to dodge, no injuries to nurse. Just time to enjoy each other, in bed and out. 

The first week had been wonderful. They ate, slept, and had sex in a dozen different ways in a dozen different places in this house. But, here, on day nine, Murdock was slowly going out of his mind with boredom. Well, further out, anyway. He had already rearranged the kitchen, storing all items alphabetically. Not an easy job, but he was sure the regular residents would appreciate the results. Much more efficient this way. 

He had cleaned his weapon (and his gun, he thought with a private giggle). He had read the *very few* books placed picturesquely among the built in shelves (what kind of people owned more napkin-rings than books?!?), and watered the one lonely houseplant in the living room. What else was there to do other than cook and have more sex? Not that he had anything against either activity. In fact…

Murdock eyed the other man thoughtfully (my, Colonel, what big hands you have!) and Hannibal smiled at him sympathetically. 

"Why don't you take Billy for a walk?" he suggested. Well, that was a nice idea, but Billy was napping now, worn out from their adventure early this morning. Very early. In fact, some people might even consider the hour to have been night time. A full moon last night, and who could sleep when the Queen of the Night hunted through the forests and the fields? Not Murdock. Nor Billy, it seemed. Murdock had woken instantly at the first small whine, to find the moon spilling silver light through the window like cool water. Drenching the room in mystery. Murdock couldn't resist the call. He slipped from Hannibal's bed and ran outside, bare-foot and wild-eyed, to run, joyously, watching Billy chase moonbeams and fairies… 

He returned at sunrise, tame and smiling, in time to make coffee for his friends. None of them knew of his nocturnal ramblings, and he chose to leave them in sweet ignorance. If they ever discovered how often and how far he roamed, well, they would just worry. 

But, perhaps a little knowledge would be appreciated by his beloved leader. Murdock opened his mouth, to give a carefully edited report of his nightly activities, but he noticed Hannibal's eyes sliding, almost helplessly, back toward his book. Murdock craned his neck to see which story had captured the colonel… Oh! Patrick O'Brian! Well, why didn't you say so! Who, in their right mind, would choose to stay here in this bland McMansion, when he could pace the deck with Captain Jack? Watch the sunrise over the wine dark sea and breath the clean air of freedom? Already, Murdock could see Hannibal sinking back into the book, thoroughly entranced and far away. If he reached for one of those broad shoulders would his fingers sink through empty air to feel the chair beneath? Best not to find out. Murdock tiptoed respectfully away. 

So, that was two of his teammates accounted for. Face was busy taking over the modern world, and Hannibal had chosen to inhabit an older world. And B.A.? What world was he currently touching? Caressing with those strong hands? Moulding to his own pleasure? Fingering…? Oh, boy.

Murdock forced himself to the top level of this ridiculous house, mounting the stairs with grim determination, fighting his way up the steepest side of Everest. He needed to get as far away from the garage as possible. Temptation was a bitch, but he could counter it. Wander through all the rooms, and count the closets. Cabinets and drawers. Did normal people really need so many towels? Invade the master bedroom (now Hannibal's room; did that make him the master?) and throw open the walk-in closet. What clothes hogs these people were! Or, was that clothes horse? There were starving kids in Africa, you know! (Though, those kids would probably prefer to have the horse rather than the clothes. Or the hog.) He spent a pleasant half hour knotting all those silk ties together and then weaving his new rope through and around the expensive clothes languishing on the hangers. Call it modern art! 

He jumped on all the beds for awhile; fun, yes, but it would never beat the F-14 Tomcat for a pure adrenaline rush. He really needed to slaughter some large, juicy chunks of time. What to do? Well, decanting and miss-bottling all of Face's lotions and potions was always good fun…

Oh, who was he kidding? Nothing he could do would erase from the front of his mind the sight of B.A.'s tantalizing smirk. Murdock was just going to have to man-up, march into the garage, and demand satisfaction. He had already used up four of his nine lives; one more loss couldn't be that bad. 

Right?

 

Back in the kitchen, now, he stood and stared at the back door, momentum failing him. That door, so firmly shut, seemed to mock his upstairs resolve. Why was is so quiet? (Yes! Too quiet!) If B.A. was building a Something, shouldn't there be noises? Thumps, bumps, and roars? The silence pressed against his ears, as he moved cautiously toward the dark throat of the mud room. He was about to tunnel through the heart of the mountain and here there be dragons. Quickly, he checked his pockets for magic rings, but no such luck. He would have to rely solely on his wits for this mission. No backup, and no going back. 

Slowly, he turned the handle and pushed open the door, no more than an inch, to strain his eyes into…. nothing. The garage was absolutely dark, not even the gleam of torch light against stolen gold. Was the dragon not at home today? 

Emboldened, Murdock slipped through the door and almost closed it behind him. He left it cracked to take advantage of the weak beam of sun from the kitchen windows. Two nervous steps in, and his eyes had adjusted enough to spy one small light, a green one that winked at him from the far side of this vast room. A regular beat that lured him further in. He tilted his fedora grimly forward, took a firmer grip on his coiled whip, and ventured further, toward fortune and glory. 

Another two steps, and his socked feet registered something soft, almost squishy, on the floor. He had time for one thought ("that's a..!") before a tiny sound finally broke the silence. An almost inconsequential click. Uh, oh. 

Something grabbed and wrapped tight-tight around his ankles, and Murdock had one second to tuck his upper body, training taking over for instinct, before he was yanked up, upside down. To dangle, like the catch of the day. Well, then.

He blinked, dazed, as dim lighting suddenly glowed from a hidden corner, and the room bobbed and swayed around him. Who knew a garage could be so graceful? 

"What took you so long, man? You late." Murdock twisted his head to look up (down?) and saw B.A.'s bare feet padding across the blue training mats, that had been thoughtfully laid on the hard floor to pad his sudden assent. He strained his neck a little further and was treated to Bosco's impossibly smug smile. Really?

"I am quite grateful to you, sir, for my engraved invitation. However, it did not specify a time for our engagement. Therefore, I must respectfully insist that I am not late." He used his loftiest tone (in honor of being aloft!) and was rewarded with B.A.'s warm chuckle. 

"Thought you'd break an hour ago. Then I finished up in here and thought about coming to get you." Oooh, that sounded promising. 

"Why didn't you?" Murdock didn't play straight-man very often, but he figured he owed Bosco a little somethin'-somethin' for the cool trap. And, he always appreciated a new perspective. 

Like the sight of B.A.'s calm confidence, upside down, as he said, "Much more fun this way." 

True.

B.A.'s smile grew, enjoying his lover's predicament. "You always telling me to have more fun, yeah?" He dropped to a crouch, bringing their faces close. But, not close enough. Dark chocolate eyes studied him, measuring the effect of his words. "I been thinking about that. Been thinking about a lot of things this last week. Been thinking about you guys, how good we are together. An' I thought I like to show how much I 'preciate what we do. Find a way for us to have more….fun." 

Oh, Murdock knew a threat when he heard one; a threat to his tightly held control. B.A.'s deep voice had been lowering even further, rumbling through the air and heating Murdock's blood. So delicious. He shivered delightedly, all thought of escape being pushed right out of mind. Why would he want to be anywhere else? He was strung up and tied close for his lover's pleasure. 

Perfect.

"Did you know that Thomas Edison still holds the record for the number of patents held by one inventor? One thousand ninety three. That's a lot of… things." He licked his lips, attempting to sound nonchalant while the blood rushed to his head and other interested parts of his body. "Edison's got big boots to fill…." He wanted to say something about the fierce joy of competition, but he was utterly distracted by B.A.'s slow nod of understanding, and dark words. 

"Guarantee Edison don't have this on his list." 

The big man jumped to his feet and walked easily to the far work table against the wall. The one where the small, green light still whispered it's warning. Or promise. Murdock was feeling hopeful. B.A. shifted a few half-seen objects around, before choosing one and strolling back to his victim. With his hands behind his back. Oh, this was going to be good. 

"I made lots a different things, to play with. Even made a couple a things for myself." His smile was pure naughtiness. "Maybe you ask nice, I show you those." (OH!) "But, I also made somethin' special for each of you. Presents, kinda. Somthin' for Face's smart mouth. Somethin' to remind Hannibal why it good to be the Boss." B.A. stepped closer, hands still hidden, not bothering to crouch this time. To Murdock he looked ten feet tall, and every inch was mouth-watering. 

"But, this," his rich voice murmured, "I made just for you, Crazy." Murdock desperately focused lust-hazed eyes to see what B.A. presented. It was.. was…

 

"Oh." Words, for once, failed him. It was a dildo. He had only seen one once, in that sex shop in Hong Kong Face dragged him into (both of them drunk as skunks, and what would Gran say?!?) , but it wasn't the kind of thing a person could forget. Eminently recognizable and demanding attention. But, that 'tourist' shop hadn't had anything nearly as well made. Lovingly made. This was the work of an artist; inspired. 

It was at least eight inches long, wrapped in dark emerald leather; curved enticingly, and sported a tempting little bump near the tip. Murdock stared, utterly hypnotized by the way it seemed to glow in the shy light; the way B.A. turned it just so, to be fully admired. B.A. had made this for him, here, in the dark. "It's beautiful," he whispered reverently. Bosco chuckled again, pleased. 

"Hold still," he commanded. 

B.A. brought the thing toward his face, while Murdock quivered with the effort to obey. Not often B.A. gave him orders; he wanted to make this good. And, oh, it was worth it. Bosco slowly caressed his cheek with the toy, sliding it across his lips and down his throat. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation; warm and cool, and perfectly sensual. "It's so soft," he moaned. He wanted to say more, to fully express his appreciation for this wonder, but all his words seemed to be leaking from his brain. Dripping onto the matt beneath him; gravity could be a bitch sometimes.

It didn't matter, though. B.A. understood what he meant. What he needed. "Yeah," he murmured. "I used the best leather I could find. And I oiled it." He stroked Murdock's other cheek, now. "I made sure it was smooth for you. And thick. Just the way you like it." Murdock shivered again, wanting, well, everything, really. He craned his neck again, when Bosco pulled back slightly, to see one clever finger pointing at the bottom of the toy. "You see this button?" A discreet switch lay next to the twinkling light. 

"Yeah…" 

"Push it." Another order he was eager to follow. 

Murdock pressed the magic button, and the beautiful thing began to hum. To vibrate, if he was correct. And how would that feel, hmmm? Inside, outside, upside-down? Like a pool of cool water on a sticky summer day, that's how. Oh, yes. He looked up, right into B.A.'s dark smile. "Glad you got here when you did, Crazy. I hate to have to test these all by myself." White teeth flashed in a dangerous smile. "Now I got my own personal guinea pig." 

And, like that, it was suddenly too much. The whole morning had been one long tease, and now the understanding of what his quiet friend had been giving them all week… Sitting in his cave, spinning straw into gold. Building beauty….

Murdock's hands flashed out, cobra quick (got a little too close to your prisoner, corporal!) and grabbed fistfuls of gym shorts. He pulled, hard, and B.A. grunted in surprise as he took one half-step forward. The slack in the rope took care of the rest of the distance between Murdock and his goal. He used one hand as an anchor, while the other hand shoved the cloth out of the way, and he leaned in to….

"Oh, yeah!" 

Whether Murdock thought it, or B.A. said it, neither of them cared. Murdock's mouth was at the perfect height and angle to swallow that hard length down, down, right where they both wanted it. B.A.'s shocked groan turned to gasping laughter, as Murdock licked and sucked as best he could. Murdock's senses and nerves were overwhelmed; raw with lust and filled to bursting. Blood throbbing in his eyes, mouth stretched and filled, ears delighting in Bosco's joyous laughter. Could it get any better?

"That's right, Crazy-sweet." B.A.'s voice, breathless with pleasure, whispered above him. Murdock felt his own pants being unzipped and pushed down (up?), putting him on vulnerable display. Getting better, definitely. "You get me nice and wet, and we'll take this thing for a test drive." 

Murdock moaned with approval at the first stroke of butter-soft leather against his skin. Strong hands petted his thighs, while the head of his new toy slowly slipped toward his own hard flesh. Then, the vibrations began. 

Baracus ingenuity. Oh, yes. Murdock was a fan. 

 

An hour or so later…..

Face wandered out to the kitchen, looking for a snack and an excuse to get away from the computer. He'd check their finances (good), researched a few potential clients (better), and then had gotten sucked into an increasingly heated IM argument with Charisa (not good). He'd only really been checking with her to see how the fugitive hunt was progressing. They were pretty well hidden here, in the dull 'burbs of Boise, but it never hurt to be a little paranoid. And the flirting, well, that was just harmless instinct. 

They were both adults; they knew where they stood. God knows, he loved the woman, might even have married her some day. Once upon a time. And, he certainly appreciated what she was doing for them, deflecting attention away from their locations, current and future. He knew they owed her. But, man, he wished she wouldn't constantly remind him of their debt. Like, every half hour. Flirting turned to acrimony pretty damn quickly, and Face made some half-assed excuse and a strategic retreat. Before he typed something he'd regret later.

Face grabbed an apple off the counter and wondered where everyone had gotten to. B.A. was probably still in the garage creating the next Big Thing. Hannibal had a book he'd been trying to finish for days; interrupting the colonel had become an unspoken game for Face (well, he had to have some fun; too damn quiet around here). And Murdock was…. where? Might need to look into that. Their pilot really didn't need a babysitter (Ranger, baby!) but he'd been wound pretty tight earlier, and all that energy would need to be channeled into movement; body or mind. 

Face felt a little guilty about blowing off his buddy earlier (ha! blowing!). Well, he'd make it up to him now. Maybe some target practice in the field out back, winner take loser. Normally a game he could win literally blindfolded, but he could come up with a believable reason to lose. Smiling to himself, he strolled to the back door to scope the conditions on the field, and spied Hannibal sprawled on a lounger, nose in that book. Face swore he was going to get him a Kindle for Christmas (welcome to the twenty-first century, old man!) so Hannibal could carry his monster-huge library around with them, rather than just leaving a finished book wherever they happened to be. "Recycling," Hannibal called it; "watering the tree," was Murdock's term. Face just called it wasteful, harkening back to his strict upbringing. B.A. had no opinion on the matter, as long as Hannibal wasn't leaving behind a Tom Clancy. Man had to draw the line somewhere. 

Face contemplated the Boss through the glass for a moment, thinking back to his conversation with Charisa. It wasn't often that he stopped to count his blessings, but he had been forcefully reminded this morning how lucky he really was. To have such incredible teammates (lovers, friends) to support him. Without question and only a few complaints. His ex-girlfriend had given him an unexpected gift this morning, reminding him that things could definitely be worse. Time to pass that gift on, by showing Hannibal what pleasures were available to him. Besides, that book! Never pass up an opportunity to poke the Boss. 

Target acquired, Face stepped out onto the porch, wearing his gravest expression. "Colonel?" 

Hannibal looked up, eyes glazed with words. "Yeah?" 

"Colonel," Face intoned solemnly, "I feel a disturbance in the Force." The older man's gaze sharpened quickly at that, silver-blue eyes pinning him with a glare. 

"Ha, very, ha." Terrible sarcasm, and Face snickered at his own cleverness. 

"Have you seen Murdock?" He strolled, with only a little swishing of the hips, to the edge of the porch, not too far away. Wanted Hannibal to get a good view. 

"He was here a little while ago," came the vague answer. The colonel's hands were moving slightly (Hannibal's biggest 'tell') twitching back and forth across his book. Oh, he really wanted to get back to the story; must be at a good part. Well, Face loved a challenge; though, really, a book? No competition. 

Slowly, he draped himself across the rail, tilting his hips invitingly, and gazed wistfully at the covered pool. God, he missed California! Time to wrap up this vacation and get home to civilization. "It's his turn to make lunch," he sighed, and ran a sensuous hand through his golden hair. 

"Are you thinking about lunch already, kid? We just ate." 

Face glanced out of the corner of his eye, casually, and smirked in triumph. Hannibal's eyes were drinking in his pose, hands finally still. Time to reel him in. 

"It's eleven-thirty, colonel, and I'm starting to get…. hungry." He lifted his apple to his lips and took a tiny bite, being sure to lick lightly at the red flesh to catch any drips. Hannibal's hands twitched again, but now on the arms of the chair rather than on his book. Gotcha. 

The colonel knew he was being seduced, and he was enjoying Face's little display of power (who wouldn't?) but it wouldn't do to let the kid's ego get too big. Brat was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Well, not this time. He was determined to finish this book today, which wouldn't happen if Face was bored. Okay, then. 

"Eleven-thirty already? Where does the time go?" Hannibal stretched his long body back in the lounger, one hand stroking his thigh. "Well, I guess if Murdock's disappeared you can make lunch." He didn't bother to hide his smile as Face's stance faltered. 

"But, I made breakfast!" (No fair!)

"You made pancakes," Hannibal agreed. "You always make pancakes." Face crossed his arms over his chest, game forgotten. Gotcha. 

"Are you complaining about my breakfasts?" 

Boss shook his head fondly. Face was shockingly easy to manipulate once you really knew him, which was one of the many reasons why he rarely let anyone get that close to him. Hannibal felt privileged he was one of the few who could rile the kid up. Maybe later he'd rile Face another way. 

"I love your pancakes, but maybe it's time to expand your menu options. You can start by making lunch." The kid was beginning to sulk now. He hated cooking and viewed it as just another chore, no different than taking out the trash. 

"You could make lunch, too, you know." 

Oh, the game was definitely ending now. Hannibal smiled and played his hidden card. "I'm delegating. I'm good at that." He watched with interest as Face digested that and came to the obvious conclusion. 

"I think I'll look for Murdock." 

"Good idea," Hannibal praised, and opened his book with relish. Only two chapters left. "Maybe he's keeping B.A. company." 

Face shook his head. "B.A.'s busy." 

Hannibal glanced at him. "So?" 

Well, he did have a point.

 

Face wandered back into the kitchen, a little disgruntled. Hannibal had chosen paper entertainment over the real thing, and now he had a search to conduct. Under the beds, up on the roof, and God knew where else. Well, it was still better than cooking. Maybe B.A. could be persuaded to put down the Whateveritwas and help look. Thinking of the corporal, Face glanced at the garage door, and froze. Uh, oh. It was open just a crack. Which meant someone had peeked in. And had gotten caught? Or was the door open in invitation? Face moved cautiously forward, resisting the urge to tiptoe. He could hear sounds coming from the room beyond… machinery? Face decided on courtesy as his discretion. He knocked quietly and murmured, "B.A.? I hate to bother you, but…" But, he never got to finish his thought. The door swung open quickly to reveal…

Murdock. Naked Murdock. Naked, exuberant Murdock, smiling happily. "Hey, Faceman! You done conquering the Cardassians?" 

Face gaped at his friend, momentarily speechless. He'd certainly seen the pilot under stranger circumstances; naked in the garage didn't even register on the Weird-o-Meter. No, what had Face blinking like an idiot was the fact that Murdock wasn't naked. Not entirely. He was wearing what looked like…. "Hey, buddy. Yeah, the Universe has been saved." He pointed, helplessly. "Um, is that…?" 

Murdock reached up to finger the collar around his neck. Dark green leather, gracefully etched with what looked like outlines of feathers, it set off his eyes and skin beautifully. "Part of a matched set! Nice, huh?" 

Face opened his mouth (to agree? to question?), but before he could cobble together any reasonable response, there came a mighty shout from deeper in the garage. 

"Murdock! You get back here, man! Right now! Don't you leave this thing….!" Face tried to crane around to see what had Bosco so upset (oh, the mind boggled!) but Murdock was purposely blocking his view. 

The pilot turned his head to call back, scolding cheerfully, "Oh, don't be such a big baby. I used plenty of lube." Lube? Well, that answered the question of how Murdock had been entertaining himself this morning. 

Another shout from within, "Fool, get over here!", had Face fighting back hysterical laughter. 

"You having fun, buddy?" Murdock beamed at him, all shining eyes and bouncing toes. 

"Oh, yeah!" He leaned forward as though to reveal a secret. "Mr. Wizard needed another Timmy, and I fit the specs. You wouldn't believe the wonderful things Bosco made!" His eyes, if possible, got even bigger. "Beautiful, fun things! Something for each of us! I don't want to ruin the surprise when the big guy gives you your present, so I'll just say it matches your eyes." His smile twisted to sly. "Bosco wanted to test out a few things on me, but why should I have all the fun? Besides, I think he needs a refresher course on the art of restraint." 

Ummm… 

"Murdock!" Did B.A. actually sound desperate? His voice was reaching that special range he only got to right before… 

"Hang on, big guy! Be right there!" The pilot turned back from the dark garage to give Face a solemn stare. "Liverwurst," he said firmly. Face blinked at him; he rarely needed a translator for Murdock any more, but every once in a while… 

"Excuse me?" 

"For lunch. There's liverwurst in the fridge. I know the Boss likes liverwurst and tomato sandwiches, and I thought that'd be easy enough for you to make." He tilted his head doubtfully, as though wondering if Face was feeling all right. Sometimes Murdock forgot that the voices in his head were only speaking to him. "I'm going to be helping B.A. for a while; you guys should probably eat without us." 

Shaking off the reflexive horror of Hannibal's food choices, Face decided the 'work' going on in the garage sounded like a hell of a lot more fun than making lunch. "Maybe B.A. could give me my present now," he suggested, trying again to peer over his friend's shoulder. 

But, Murdock was already closing the door, turning back toward another plea from Bosco, calling out cheerfully, "Wait for me!" He spared one last look at Face, crooked smile teasing his lips and glowing eyes wild. "He'll be glad to give it to you later, Facey. But, right now…. B.A. is busy," he said smugly.

And, shut the door.


End file.
